The Magic Lady
by SeptemberMom
Summary: Alternate 5x09 ending.


**A/N: (Reds_Logic Tweets) Because it's December and there have been one too many Silent Nights already. Because love is better than hate. Because kindness matters. Because year of yes. Mostly because I keep seeing the Lighthouse vanish right before my eyes. (Back to [Virginia] Woolfs's stream of consciousness.)**

 **A tiny bit of ruby from a mountain of dust... #ActsOfKindness**

One week without his touch. His scent. The way his eyes moved as though they belonged to her. Of sleeping and waking up next to him. Of nothing but deafening silence. He didn't call; he didn't write. He didn't come to her; he always came to her. What did she expect? A week of returning to the same place she'd abandoned. Always from the outside looking in. Perhaps out of pure habit, more likely due to the big lie. She places a free hand on her belly and looks up at the rusting black gate. She didn't even have the strength to cry anymore, yet the tears continue to fall, drop by drop, mirroring each snowflake. One week of Mellie's tantrums and demands. Whatever made her think it was a good idea to take that woman on as a client? OPA was hemorrhaging, they needed money...so she kept telling herself. Mellie Higgins (just to get her to take back her maiden name had been a mission) didn't have the heart of a President. No, she didn't.

"Miss Pope," Morris interrupts. Olivia quickly wipes away the tears and throws him a forced smile.

"Morris, what are you doing out here?"

"Taking a break," he responds. Upon seeing the incredulous look on her face, he jokes, "It's the White House, not a prison ma'am." She chuckles.

"Going in?"

"NO!"

"I'm sure the President would love to see you. Still on the list." he adds.

"Maybe another time," she smiles.

"Don't let him wait for ever..." She throw him a cold glare and he apologizes, "that was unsolicited, I'm sorry."

She furrows her brows, crosses her arms and ponders for a few seconds.

"I guess a minute won't hurt," she decides.

She can't help but roll her eyes at the delighted look on his face. With a deep exhale, she walks into the White House. An exodus of black suits and briefcases, one after the other piling out of the Oval Office. Syria, she correctly guesses to herself. Just as she's about to enter, she's struck by a face so familiar it paralyzes her in place. Adnan Salif? Not quite. Perhaps a cousin... same lineage? The scene she witnesses bemuses her further. She stands just inches away from the President as he escorts her out.

"Mr. President," she halts, "it'll feel like you're drowning for a really long time then one day you're not gasping for air anymore and you won't even remember what it's like to fight for breath." He jerks back his head in astonishment at her gall to speak so freely about his personal life.

"Excuse me?"

"Syria, France, Mali, the ceaseless mass shootings. The pressure. Decisions, decisions, decisions..."

"Oh," he calms down.

"But...also.." she treads carefully, "Miss Pope. It's not my place but... you really loved her, didn't you?"

A sad chuckle, followed by the most profound sigh, "Love. A lot of good that's done me," he adds lightly. Changing the subject he inquires, "what do you make of all this? Should America stand with Britain?"

"Honestly? Air strikes are a temporary solution, if a solution at all. They instill terror, miss targets and kill civilians. I often wonder how it makes us different from them. The problem is instability in the region. Minds are amenable to manipulation. And that manipulation often comes from the top. Any kind of real solution should include institutional restructuring."

"Wow!"

"What?"

"Nothing... it's just that... you remind me of someone."

"Her?"

"Yes... and... no...it's... you're a breath of fresh air." She smiles and they look at each other. The warm moment is interrupted by some very loud throat clearing...

"Am I interrupting something?" Olivia asks.

"I was just leaving," the Salif-look-alike offers. "Those magazine covers don't do you enough justice, Miss Pope." The woman leaves without waiting for a response.

"Hello, Olivia," Fitz greets, trying hard to remain neutral but his smile betrays him. He couldn't help himself, he was happy to see her.

"Hello, Mr. President." He heads towards her and softly kisses her on the lips before realizing, "I'm sorry, I...," a lingering finger on her lips, she waves it off, "it's okay...I...me too..." They both smile.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you in this place again. What brings you by?"

"You can't discuss foreign policy with outsiders," she warns.

"I asked for an opinion and it was given," he defends. She walks over to the window, encouraging him to follow her. He raises an eyebrow and waits for the harangue.

"You can't date a foreign born Muslim."

"Who said anything about dating? And she's Catholic, I believe."

"Syrian-born," she counters.

"I believe that would be my problem, now wouldn't it?" She's stunned by his flippant manner while he's amused by hers. He moves towards his desk and takes a seat, propping his feet up on the desk.

"Why are you really here, Olivia?" Now facing him, she lies,

"I guess to congratulate you. Everyone is so focused on what's going on outside, that all your domestic shortcomings have been forgotten."

"You mean how I can't seem to get this 'love' thing right? That's what they're saying, isn't it?" She grimaces and looks away from him.

He continues, "A phone call would have sufficed, don't you think?"

"I wanted to see you."

"Why? What's the point?"

"I should go." She turns to leave.

"Always walking away..." he mutters.

"What?" A whisper.

"I won't say it again."

A moment of silence passes between them.

"You look good, Olivia. Healthy."

"You've seen better days," she admits. He throws his hands up in the air and glances around the room, "Just serving out my sentence!" he teases. That seems to break her and she struts out before he sees the tears in her eyes. Falling. Drop by drop.

 _Later that same day, nearly dusk_

Olivia stands outside his bedroom door. She's about to knock when she hears giggling...Teddy. She peeks her head in and watches in silence.

"Done!" Teddy self-congratulates.

"What do you have there?" Fitz runs towards him and climbs into his lap.

"It's me and you, Daddy." On the piece of paper are two stick figures, the image of him with a huge curl on his head and an even bigger frown on his face.

"Why do I look so sad?"

"That's your face, Daddy!" Olivia tries hard not to laugh at the the way Teddy says it, as though he can't fathom drawing his father any other way. At the same time, it saddens her as well.

"And what is this box next you?"

"Daddy!" as he shakes his head with his palm on his forehead. "That's not a box. It's a bed! Like for babies. I asked Santa to bring me another brother because my other one doesn't visit me anymore." Fitz inhales and is suddenly gasping for air again. He holds Teddy tightly and nods.

"That's right, Jerry is keeping God company now." The little one is so oblivious to his father's pain that he continues.

"So, will Santa send me a new one? I've been very good. I only asked for one thing. I wanted to ask him if I could come live with you again. I really love mommy but I like you so much more. You play with me. But I only asked for one thing and I've been very very good! So, Santa has to bring me another brother, right Daddy?"

"Oh kiddo, I wish things worked like that but they don't." Before he can crush the young lad's dreams, Olivia interrupts him.

"Of course Santa will give you what you're asking for, Teddy. You've been a good boy, right?"

Fitz is horrified. He looks over at Olivia warning her not to continue. Did she not know that he would actually be expecting this baby Christmas morning? Olivia pays him no mind and laughs instead when Teddy declares, "THE MAGIC LADY!"

"The magic lady?" she asks.

"Yes, you make Daddy go like this," he snatches the paper from is dad's hand and turns the frown into a huge smile. Fitz forgets his anger and confusion for a second and joins the merry pair in laughter. Teddy runs into the adjoining room giggling and chanting, "the magic lady, the magic lady, ..."

Fitz runs after him, shouting, "Be careful Teddy!" He immediately turns to Olivia, now sitting on the bed, and demands, "Why would you do that?! How can you promise him that?! And I don't see you for days on end and now... now you're in my bedroom? What is going on, Liv?" He is so frantic that the only way she can think of calming him down is to confess.

"I'm pregnant." He eyes widen and he jams his hands in his pockets.

"What?" ...a pause... "Were you pregnant a week ago?"

She wants to laugh because his question is ridiculous but she just nods.

"But all that hooch?"

"I regret that, and I made myself vomit to get rid of it."

"I don't understand."

She grabs his hand and begins, "I want to be completely honest with you. I've been scared because you might hate me for it, but...that night...I felt like I was drowning. I didn't know this person I was becoming and I honestly just wanted to go back to the way my life was before. When it was just me, my popcorn and wine, and my forbidden love for you. So, I went to the clinic...to go back... But as I was lying on that table and that machine came on, I couldn't do it. What was I going back to? I couldn't go back. So, I ran as far away from that place as I could and I came here. But then...I couldn't look at you. I had to get away from you because of this awful thing I was going to do... the guilt...I couldn't. Do you ever think you can forgive me?" Fitz is overwhelmed by too many different emotions to speak just then so he pulls her to him and just holds her.

"Oh, Livvie..." is the only thing he manages to say for a while. Then, he looks into her eyes and says, "I'm glad you didn't go through with it. But...tell me how we do this."

"What do you mean?"

"There is no 'this'. There is no 'us'. There is no 'Vermont'."

"Fitz, I'm pregnant and hormonal!" She jokes. "I want this. I want us. You, me, and Teddy's little brother."

"Or sister! Do you move back in? Do I resign? You're really putting America through the wringer here, Liv."

"We can do whatever we want and America will just have to deal!" she asserts.

He runs a finger down her face and warns, "You can't keep doing this to my heart. It always feels like death every time you walk out that door."

"I'm sorry. It's never my intention. I have issues. And I really don't want to screw up this kid."

"We won't, because we have the perfect examples of what not to do." She chuckles.

"You're right."

"I'm always right!" he teases.

As if finally realizing Olivia was really pregnant with his child and he could truly be happy about it, he suddenly scoops her up into his arms and spins her around. She's giggling and dizzy and pleading for him to stop.

"Fitz, be careful! This baby is ours, and I need him to stay perfect."

"Don't worry, she'll be born into a cage."

He hushes whatever protests she may have with a passionate kiss that seems to go on forever. Teddy returns, still hyper and blithe. As soon as he sees his father with the "magic-lady", he yells, "YES, YOU DID IT!" Fitz places Olivia down and instructs her to sit back down.

"Come here, kiddo," she beckons. She smoothes his hair down and sits him on the bed next to her. Fitz sits beside him.

"How would you like to be our ring bearer?" she asks.

"A ring-bear?" Daddy, what's a ring-bear?" But he's too stunned, staring at Olivia incredulously for the one-hundredth time this night. She nods and rubs her belly,

"Pregnant bride."

He shakes his head letting her know they didn't have to.

"I want to. Not here. And I don't want Betsy Ross' ring." They both knew where, when and how. They'd imagined it a thousand times. No more words were needed between them. But Teddy was still nagging for an explanation.

"Daddy! What's a ring-bear?!"

Fitz finally responds, "A ring bearER has the most important job at a wedding, son." He tickles him and Olivia joins in on the fun until all three are lying on the bed, tears flowing from their eyes from pure contentment. Olivia looks over at Fitz, who is gazing directly into her eyes. She mouths, "I love you," as their hands interlock over Teddy's tiny frame.

End

 _Please forgive any typos, grammar, or word issue. Minimal editing on this one._


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